


Weighted Blanket

by det395



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anxiety, Health Anxiety, M/M, Medication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 15:29:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21656809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/det395/pseuds/det395
Summary: Phil is feeling anxious.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 17
Kudos: 128





	Weighted Blanket

**Author's Note:**

> (I don't mean to make an objective statement about medication for mental illness, medication tends to affect everyone differently and require a cost/benefit assessment for each person to see if its right for them! Why do I sound like a commercial about side effects anyway enjoy the story)

He sits with the feeling for a while. The burning in his chest. It’s like no air can enter his lungs, like his heart is straining. But not quite, because he doesn’t think it’s a real pain. 

The rational side of his brain has convinced him there’s nothing to run from or fight, but consequently, there’s now nothing to do about it. He just lays there, feels it, let’s tears come to his eyes but resists any actual crying because he already feels embarrassed.

Embarrassed? That’s not quite the word he’d choose. There’s no one here to see him, no one that would judge him, anyway. It’s really a frustration. Wanting it to stop, wanting to feel okay again. Tears would make it feel like this is a real breakdown.

Acknowledging his frustration only makes him want to cry more. Because he’s right, it is unfair. Not everyone feels this way, apparently, especially not over nothing. And why has evolution allowed this bad feeling, anyway?

Dan might say its modern-day worries that create an epidemic of overwhelmed citizens. His Mum usually says its the Internet, that no one can comprehend all that interaction. Cornelia tells him to be more mindful, to find what calms him. He kind of likes his brother’s ideas the best. Martyn just leaves him be, tells him it will pass.

It will. It’s just that right now he has to deal with it. And he’ll have to deal with it the next time it happens. He’ll have to postpone the emails and writing and editing, he’ll have to cut into his free time where he’s supposed to be relaxing. If he doesn’t relax, he might faint again, and if that happens, he might have to acknowledge that there’s something tangible wrong with his health.

Is anxiety tangible? He likes psychology, but he doesn’t understand it. It feels like an invisible monster in his brain or a demon that possesses his soul. Something that comes and goes as it pleases. A feeling that just shouldn’t be there, a burden that should have stopped when he got his life together.

Maybe he should be less hard on himself. Maybe he should recognize the stress of creating things and consistent administrative issues and being the face of any backlash. Surely, he’s not the only one who feels time slip through his fingertips each time it gets dark outside. Days come and go, leaving him disoriented with how absurd life is. How people exist all around him, living their own lives. He’ll never have a  _ real  _ break because life just never stops.

It’s times like these he feels some regret. Maybe he didn’t give medication enough of a chance. That’s what Dan always said, not in an “I told you so” way, though he might think it secretly. 

It took away most of his libido, his ability to orgasm so easily. Dan tried to make it a fun challenge like everything else in their lives, but Phil wasn’t having fun like that. He didn’t like the look on Dan’s face when Phil said ‘stop, I can’t’, either. He didn’t like it when Dan stopped seducing him even though Phil needed the space. He didn’t like the lack of pleasure he suddenly had in life.

He swears it dampened on his emotions. He hated that, he wanted to feel things strongly, he just didn’t want to feel  _ anxiety  _ so strong. Maybe it's childish to want life to be so fair to him. He knows medication wasn’t supposed to be a permanent thing anyway, but it could have at least helped him like it helped Dan to cope.

It’s a bad habit to compare himself to Dan. Whether he makes himself sad wondering if Dan ever feels this way, or gets frustrated thinking that Dan just doesn’t understand. Of course he does, anxiety just makes him angry.

Speak of the devil and he comes, apparently. Phil looks over at the opening door and frowns so Dan won’t ask him to come help with laundry or something. Dan’s open mouth closes and he tilts his head in pity.

“Can I grab you anything?” He finally asks.

“Mm.” Phil thinks for a minute, shuffling onto his back.

“Are you feeling sick sick?” Dan asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Anxious,” Phil says, shaking his head. “No reason for it.”

“It’s okay to have reasons that don’t seem justified right now.”

It doesn’t seem so bad when Dan speaks to him in that soft voice. He knows himself well enough to understand this feeling will trail him through the day, though.

“Tea? Brooklyn Nine-Nine?” Dan suggests.

“Oh, your weighted blanket. That’s what it’s for, right?” 

“You want to try the weighted blanket?”

“Yeah.”

Dan smirks then runs towards the bed. His feet are so loud on the floor that it makes Phil flinch. Dan slows then pretends to jump on Phil, but really he just crawls on top of him. Phil is already laughing, trying to hold Dan up by his shoulders when he plops down.

“I’m your weighted blanket,” Dan says. He straightens out then lifts his legs up onto Phil’s.

“Oh my God, Dan!” Phil strains his voice through his compressed chest. Dan's hips dig into his own and he squirms. He huffs out, surprised at how heavy Dan really is, pressing him into the mattress.

“Does it help?” He asks, teasing.

Phil laughs and tries to lightly smack him but Dan hides his face down above Phil’s shoulder and stays there.

“Not being able to breathe isn’t that relaxing,” Phil says.

“If I knock you unconscious, all your worries go away.”

“What! No, ugh. Weighted blankets are supposed to be 10 pounds, not, like, 20 stone.”

Dan lifts his head up rapidly but he has a hint of a smile on his face. “Excuse me?” He leans down on Phil’s chest.

“Okay, ow, off now.”

Dan rolls over and looks at him. “Want me to stop bothering you?”

“You're a good distraction,” he replies with a shake of his head. He rolls over and gives Dan a hug. He buries his face down until no light can reach his eyes. Maybe he can just hide in the things that make him happy, in things that are safe and warm and smell good.

“I do have to go reply to emails, soon, though. I’ll grab you my blanket when I leave.”

“Thanks,” Phil says. “I’ll be okay, soon.”

“I know. You will.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr link](https://det395.tumblr.com/post/189447222227/weighted-blanket)


End file.
